Kyuketsen
by SariaSubi-kun
Summary: TEMPORARILY DISCONTINUED
1. Comings From the North

Kyuketsen

By SariaSubi-kun

SariaSubi: I know. I mostly do anime fanfics. I guess watching LOTR so many times knocked me into finally writing a fanfic about it. Now, I have a feeling this takes place after all the plot is over. Really, I have only watched the movies, so no, I have no clue what happens in "Return of the King" Maybe if I wait until the third movie comes out, I can clear the plot up. Just enjoy what this is, whether it goes along with the plot or not. Aragorn is king, Frodo and Sam are back in the Shire, and Legolas and Gimli live in Aragorn's kingdom…or...thing (that's in Gondor, right?). That's what I have so far. Please bear with me. If you have any suggestions, though, I would gladly accept them. 

Feedback: saria@linkinpark.com or you could just review it.

I have a feeling we all know I'm not J. R. R. Tolkien, so we all know I don't own Lord of the Rings. 

Nolinae – nah-lin-nay

Ryuernet – ree-yu-er-net

Hasinea/Hashinea – ha-shin-nay-a

Tarleon – tar-lee-on

Nianerve – nee-ah-ner-vay

Andoltos – an-dahl-tose

Sale – sah-lay

Chapter 1

             The wind blows steadily over the land of men and elves united. The orcs and evil monsters of the Evil King and White Wizard lay dead in the black bogs behind Mordor. The shadow of mists is gone and peace among men, dwarves, elves, and creatures of Middle Earth can be a thought to strive for.

            The kingdom of men can be trusted again. Their king has returned, and the people rejoice. Their shouts of triumph scream that war is over.

            Hope is all that we can give, to say that war is over forever.

            The dwarf walked over with his beloved axe as he walked to stand beside his elven companion who was watching over the land from his high position on the roof of the castle. He watched with his eyes as an eagle flew over the grasslands and off into the direction of the mountains. He whispered something in elfish, and a cold breeze ruffled both their cloaks in the wind.

            Gimli growled. "Such a damn cold is not needed in the summer," his dwarf tongue rolled with accent, "I hate these dratted cold winds coming from those mountains."

            Legolas scanned the skies. "They come from Forlindon." He looked from side to side and whispered, "These winds hail from the tops of the Blue Mountains outside of Forlindon."

            "Hmph," Gimli lifted up his belt, "Forlindon is far north. How could their winds reach us here?"

            "I don't know, Gimli," he shook his head, "I don't know."

            The land of Forlindon. For years, the snow-capped blue mountains have overlooked an empty land. Until about ten years ago.

            It was a dark night and those who walked the land around this time were foolish and considered lost to the dark. But to the east, there was a band of fleeing elves, some were men, some women and children. The land they lived on was banished from safety, raided by disaster and evil. They had lived in the dangerous lands outside of Mirkwood, where it was thought to be safe, but, no, it wasn't. Orcs had come to the small town and now they were on the run, leaving as much as possible behind, most running on foot beside the horses.

            The elves of Mirkwood had no time to help them. The residents of the small town were already gone before a warning cry could be shouted to the town's neighbors. The elves were escaping as fast as they could, the evil, hungry monsters on their trail. They just ran wherever the road seemed clear; they didn't dare run into a forest where they could get lost, or, even worse, run into more orcs. The feet and hooves both stomped the ground, both growing tired in the run, but they had to keep on running if they wanted to live a few more hours.

            A young girl who looked just barely ten was in the back of the group, on her brown mare that was given to her at birth. Her father's sword hung from her belt, and she held tight to the reins, making sure that the group was far ahead of her. She herself had volunteered to keep the orcs off, even with the objections of the older elves. For her, it seemed like there was nothing else. Her father's blood was dripping from the mouths of those orcs. If anything, she would slaughter even just one to get her revenge.

            But deep inside she was frightened. Her body shook on the bare back of her horse, her hands trembling as she held the reins, but she pressed on. She had to if she wanted to keep the last of her clan alive.

            A bow and quiver hung on her back, bouncing with each gallop. She prayed that she would not run out if the orcs gained fast on her, for she knew there were hundreds. She cursed; there _was_ a way to lose them, but she was in the far back…there was no way to get to the front and lead everyone to safety. They would be slaughtered anyways because no one would be guarding them. She shook her head, tears flying out of her eyes in the immense wind that was blowing her long hair in directions behind her. She was to remain in the back and keep the people safe.

            "Nolinae!" she shrieked as the pounding feet came nearer, "NOLINAE!"

            A young woman with dark brown hair longer than hers turned her head around. She was at the tail of the group, galloping on a white steed that was taller than her. Her piercing eyes looked at the girl desperately. She had little time to say anything.

            "Nolinae, tell Ryuernet to lead them across the stream and take the back! Let me be up front!"

            The older elf nodded, her horse losing speed. The girl nodded gratefully and urged her horse forward, passing Nolinae. She urged the steed to rush past the running people, who were frantic about her, up to the front, where on another white horse a tall elf with long brown hair, similar to Nolinae's, was ahead of the people, leading the group towards the stream ahead. 

            "Ryuernet!" she called.

            He turned his head to face her, and a look of utter disbelief and shook crossed his worried face. "Hasinea! What in hell's name are you doing up here? Who is leading the back!"

            "Nolinae is!" she shouted over the loud commotion, "I have a way we can escape!"

            Ryuernet didn't look pleased. The back was now in danger and a child, with so little wisdom of escape and battle to his 5,000 years, was telling him to let her lead the group to safety from orcs that were gaining on them faster and faster by the mere second.

            "Please!" she pleaded, her face twisting with disparity and despondence. Ryuernet frowned deeply. She was the prized daughter of Tarleon and Nianerve, the descendant of the founders of their now-destroyed city, Andoltos and Sale, and his bride. He knew Hasinea was to be the leader of the clan one day. He looked down solemnly, knowing this would be her first, and maybe her last, claim to leadership. It was just that she was so _young_.

            Reluctantly, the older elf nodded, and let they young girl take the lead. She stopped her steed for a moment and looked back on her people. _Her people. She raised her sword in the air. Triumphantly she shouted, "This way!" She galloped forward with a burst of speed, the hooves of her mare splashing in the cold water of the stream. The elves lifted their skirts and tunics and trudged through the icy water as quickly as they could. Hasinea waved them to keep running as she posted her horse at the end of the stream. Her hazel eyes searched for Nolinae's white stallion. _Please, Nolinae. Come quickly. _She knew that Nolinae was like Lady Arwen of Rivendell; she could raise the water. If she did that, the water would spill out, clearing the scent of the elves, and delaying the orcs. Her plan __had to work._

            "Nolinae!" she called, and her face softened when she saw the white stallion galloping, its mane flying in the wind, both the rider and horse so full of majesty and grace. Nolinae looked up for just a moment, and nodded, knowing her task. Hasinea smiled and took one last glance as Nolinae crossed the stream, the orcs close behind her.

            As she sped away to the front of the group, the last thing she saw of the elder elf was the rising of the water.

            "Yah!" she urged the brown mare. The mare was a bit like her; young, inexperienced, and slow. But its senses were sharp and very alert. The horse had been Hasinea's best friend since she was an infant. But she was still a child.

            Her shoulder-length blonde hair flew behind her, and again she raced to the front of the fleeing elves. "Ryuernet!" she called to him in the front, "head around the Misty Mountains! We should go around Fangorn and by then we should be in Rohan."

            "Around?" he was riding next to her, shouting over the loud commotion. "But if that leads us to Rohan, we can settle there."

            "No!" Hasinea yelled. "The orcs can find us there! We'll stand out too much. We _have_ to continue north from there!"

            "_Why?_" he disagreed with her. If they were in Rohan, he thought, they would be safe! Why must she look to strain the others even more?

            "I mean," she shook her head in frustration, "we _can rest there, but for a short time. If the orcs pick up our trail again, they'll head to Rohan and then attack the people there! We'll be putting innocent lives in danger!"_

            "What about your own people, Hasinea!" Ryuernet shouted at her, the anger creeping up his spine. She was very smart for a ten year old, he had to admit, but this was ludicrous. 

            "We'll be fine! And besides, we can borrow horses from Rohan and have the group ride on those."

            "How will we return the horses?"

            "Never mind!" she screamed. Ryuernet stopped his interrogation. The child was only ten, and he was, what, thousands of years older? He shouldn't put so much weight on her shoulders. He should be helping her. But somehow…_she _was helping _him_.

            _A mere child?_ he thought to himself. But he shook his head, and forced himself to look forward. He could see the sun rising above the Misty Mountains up ahead. _Turn, he remembered the order, __and go to Rohan. Continue from there._

            She was his leader now. He had to obey her. 

            "Turn right here!" he lifted his arm towards the fleeing elves. The stopped and looked at Ryuernet, the tall figure on his white stallion, and the little girl Hasinea, on her less regal brown mare. Their faces were distraught and strewn with worry for their lives. But Hasinea was strong, and she nodded. 

            "Onward!" she shouted, her very voice changing from the softness of a young girl's to the strong, commanding tenor of a leader. Ryuernet stopped his steed to admire her.

            The little girl had grown up.

            The trip was long and weary. There were even ones of the people, which consisted of not only elves, but humans and half-elves too, men, women, and children all, that had been left behind at some other small towns to catch up with the group later. There were three deaths.

            They marched into Eriador, around the Shire and through the River Lune. Through few boats they crossed the Gulf of Lune. Hasinea and Ryuernet were in the lead of the group, with high hopes that the Green Elves of Forlindon would welcome them in.

            There were no Green Elves. Just a barren land of trees and rivers, and steep slopes from the Blue Mountains.

            There was no one there.

            Whatever life had been in Forlindon had disappeared without a trace.

            Hasinea urged her horse in front, and through her young and scared eyes, they frantically searched the lands.            

            She turned to Ryuernet, her voice cracking as she spoke. "Ryuernet…there's no one here. Why…how…?"

            He shook his head in disbelief, grave anxiety crossing his aged face. Ryuernet turned and looked down at Hasinea, who was trembling and cold.

            "Hasinea, where is Nolinae?"  
            Her teeth chattering, the young girl looked back on the group, who was grouped together, distressed and scared, huddling together to keep each other warm. But this time, she did not see the majestic white stallion. She did not see the graceful elf. All she saw was barren green hills and her people, scared and white with cold.

            "Ryuernet," she surveyed the land, "Nolinae will catch up with us. I know she will. For now, let us start this land anew. This is our home now. We now are the elves and humans both of Forlindon. This, now, is _our land_."

            But that was ten years ago. 

            Legolas rubbed his ungloved hands together, blowing warm air on them. The winds were starting to pick up speed, and it was growing more and more colder outside by the minute. He had asked Gimli to accompany him inside, but the dwarf was used to this cold. Legolas was too, but he'd rather be inside. 

            The stone lined walls of the Gondor castle were lit with torches, and there were maids, guards, and soldiers walking about, bowing with a "Master Legolas" when they saw him. The prince of Mirkwood walked through the citadel, searching for Aragorn. There was a feeling something wasn't in place, something wasn't in balance. Like the winds were cold for a reason. As if they were carrying a message towards him, but what?

            "Legolas." When the strong voice called to him, he knew at once it was Aragorn. He turned around, a warm smile on his face. Aragorn walked over to Legolas and stood before his elven friend and put his arms on his shoulders. "Just the person I was looking for. Where's Gimli?"

            "Outside," he responded, "he didn't mind the cold. He said he wanted to get some fresh air."

            "Ah, yes," Aragorn removed his strong hands and put them behind his back, and walked over to the window nearest them. The hallway was empty now, and only the two were there. Outside, the green of the land and the mountains far in the distance bordered Gondor, the towns and people, the bustling streets below them. 

            "What did you want me for, Aragorn?" Legolas asked softly, his voice light but his face lined with alertness. 

            Aragorn let out a slow breath and shook his head, looking down as he stroked his gristly beard. "Do you feel that wind, Legolas?" he looked to the blue and gray sky, the clouds moving fast with a bolster from the wind. Legolas looked up as well, and his face crossed with worry.

            "You feel it, don't you, Legolas?" Aragorn asked, still looking at the sky.

            "Yes, I do. I felt it when I was outside earlier, and I suspect Gimli is starting to feel it too. These winds are coming from Eredluin, the Blue Mountains in the north."

            Aragorn looked down at this hands again, trying to find something to piece together on the matter. "These winds send us something, I just can't tell what."

            "Do you think we should consult Gandolf?" Legolas put his head back inside, rubbing his arms as he walked to the opposite, and warmer, side of the corridor.

            Aragorn shrugged. "I have the feeling he will arrive here soon."

            "But that isn't what's coming."

            "No, it isn't," he shook his head, "but Gandolf feels it too, I know it. Maybe," he looked up at the blonde elf, "you are right, and we need to consult him. Come now, it's almost supper. I'm sure," he chuckled lightly, "Gimli wouldn't miss a meal."

            "Yes," a smile formed on Legolas' face, "we can't keep him waiting."          

            Aragorn laughed in response. "Come then, let's go." After passing through some more hallways and corridors, going down some more flights of stairs, the pair entered the dining hall, where, sure enough, Gimli was seating, fork and knife in hand. Aragorn seated himself next to the dwarf, and Legolas next to him. Just as they sat down, however, a scout burst through the doors, breathing heavily.

            Aragorn shot up. "What is it, lad?"

            The young boy stood up straight, though found it hard when he had so much breath to catch. He had lost it all running there. "A…sentry…"

            "Woah, calm down, lad," Aragorn walked over to him and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. He leaned in as Legolas and Gimli joined him. The boy took a few deep breaths. "Now, what was it you were saying?"

            He looked up, his young face tired. "A sentry…on the outskirts…saw…army…about nine hundred men…marching…this way. Had to…alarm you, sir." Aragorn lifted his hand and balled it into a fist at his side. He soon forgot about his meal and walked past the boy, the dwarf and the elf behind him.

            "Aye," Gimli huffed, "do you think this is what we were feelin'?" he looked up at Aragorn and Legolas, whose eyes were focused straight forward. 

            "I don't know, Gimli. Legolas, ready your bow."

            "Right."

            "Gimli?"

            "Aye," he patted his belt were his ax hung. "She's right here."

            "Good," Aragorn nodded, and pushed open the doors to the outside. Already people were in crowds as the swarm of soldiers walked nearer to the city gates.

            Aragorn clutched the hilt of his sword, taking a deep breath, and readied himself.


	2. The Warriors of the Kyuketsen

Kyuketsen

By SariaSubi-kun

SariaSubi: Whoo! Review on my first chapter. That is the rarest occurrence to me in all my teenage years. Wow…anyways, I just made myself watch the Two Towers twice, and I'm going to start reading the book series now, so now I can actually understand what I'm talking about. But then again, I worked my buttooski off to try to find information about Forlindon. All the places in the story that I mention, unless I say so, are real. It's just I make up some of the people. For the city outside of Mirkwood: there may be one, there might not be. I just thought of that out of the blue. But besides that, all the locations mentioned so far are real. 

Feedback: saria@linkinpark.com or a review

Anotil – a-no-till

Atril – ah-treel (this is not a name. It is a command for _come_, or _come here)_

Nerodethul – neh-roe-deh-thool

Atosir – ah-toe-seer

Anare – ah-nah-ray

Alexial – (although I think we can all say this, it's a-lecks-see-uhl)

Ulathil – oo-lah-thill

Kyudaiil – kyoo-dye-ill

Gaeh – guy-eh (this isn't a name either. It is a command for _go, or _leave now_)_

Chapter 2

            The older elf had a grim look on his face, his hand rested at the hilt of his sword. He looked down at only the dirt ground, trying to keep as quiet as possible. The army marched forward, and the central town in the Gondor lands came into view.

            "Ah, damnit," he heard a displeased voice from next to him, "we're too close. The people see us, and look! They're frightened already!" He nodded, not lifting his head. Everyone everywhere they went were afraid when they saw the Kyuketsen army.

            "Halt!" shouted the young voice of the army's captain, a bit further back from him. He was a human, around the age of twenty-two. The boy's name was Anotil. He held a good, strong hold over the army, and was third in command. He always stayed close by to him, and their leader, the greatest of them all.

            "We are to fall back fifty feet!" commanded Anotil, his young blue eyes taking a serious reserve. "Over there, by the rocks. On the edge of the woods, go on. Move men!" The rest of the men sighed and groaned, but they turned and moved back, farther away from the city.

            Anotil came over to him. "Sir, I've followed my orders. Our general told the two of us to stay here. What should we do now?"

            His dark eyes wandered over every roof and wall in the city, the mountains behind them mirrored in the brown pools. He let out a calmed breath, and turned to the younger soldier, laying his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Wait, Anotil. We wait for further orders."

            Aragorn, along with just about everyone standing at the castle doors, wore a face of utter disbelief.

            "Hah!" Gimli scoffed, "they are moving back. Do you think they are afraid?" He grinned triumphantly and started swinging his ax around. "Yeah, that shows ye. Never mess with Aragorn, king or Gondor."

            Aragorn didn't smile this time at Gimli's humor. "Why would they move back?" he said in a low voice, turning his face to Legolas.

            Legolas didn't know what to do or say. "Should we send a messenger and ask for their leader?"

            "Wait if they stay," Aragorn held his hand in front of Legolas to stop him from moving. "Do you see that? Two remain in front. They are settling at the edge of the woods."

            "By the rocks."

            "Very peculiar," Aragorn stroked his chin, thinking of what to do. He lifted his head and nodded. "Legolas, you are right. You there!" he pointed to a nearby soldier. "Take another soldier with you, and ask for the leader and any others necessary. Tell them I wish to speak with them." The guard nodded at his king's serious manner, and grabbed another guard before scurrying off to the stables to get themselves horses.

            Aragorn, with Legolas and Gimli, looked over the plain. The king shook his head and sighed. _Very peculiar indeed.___

_            He and Anotil waited for the rest of the army to move back to the assigned location, and they watched as two riders came their way. _

            "Here they come," Anotil spoke, readying his horse. He held tight to his own reins, and he watched with his dark eyes as the messengers approached them.

            "You men," the soldier said from his mount, "the king requires your presence. Take anyone necessary with you." The messenger looked at him. "Are you the leader of this army?"

            Anotil shook his head. The other rider frowned. "Where is your leader, then?"

            He turned around, and pointed, his cloak falling off his arm. "Over there, resting on the rocks." The messengers looked to the rocks behind Anotil, but they didn't see a soldier resting. They saw a soldier _sleeping. His cloak's hood was over his face, but his head was tilted down so, it was obvious he was asleep. _

            The messengers twisted their faces in disappointment. "_That fellow is your leader?"_

            Anotil nodded. "I'll get our leader for you." He turned and rushed over to the rocks, and shook the figure's shoulders.

            The messengers, however, noticed the other man standing in front of them. They looked down at the older elf.

            "Are you an important head of this army?"

            He looked up at them with stern and serious eyes. After a long pause, he spoke, "Yes," and said nothing more.

            Anotil rushed over with the other soldier, the hood still over his face. He looked up at the riders, his eyes still hidden under the shadow of the hood. His cloak was rough, and it looked very worn and rough, and it had clearly lost all its color. He wasn't very tall, but taller than Anotil. He stood tall and looked at the messengers.

            His voice was soft. "You sirs require me?"

            The messengers nodded. "The king wishes to meet with you."

            The fellow lowered his head and rubbed his chin, as if he was in deep thought. Anotil and the elf leaned in towards him, both their hands going to his shoulders. They both whispered something to him, and then he nodded. After he nodded, they pulled away.

            He looked at the riders again. "Wait a moment. Please let us retrieve our horses, for it is a long walk, and we will fall behind you." He turned around, back towards the army, and found a pack of horses. He whistled, and three heads perked up. It was a white stallion, and two brown mares.

            "_Atril, Hotaru!" he called, and one of the mares darted forward in a steady gallop as the others just trotted after him. The mare reached him, and he smiled, petting the horse tenderly. The three men mounted, and they nodded to the messengers. The riders turned their horses round, and they started to head for the city. Anotil and the elf followed in suit, but the leader looked back on his army. He smiled reassuringly and waved, before turning to follow the others. _

_            The messengers and the men climbed the steps before the castle. The guards nodded the messengers in, but they held their hands out to halt the other men._

            "We cannot let you in the castle armed, men," the guard said to them. Anotil and the elf started to remove what they had on them, which was just daggers and the quiver and bow the elf held. The guard stopped at the young man.

            "And you, lad."

            His reserve did not change. "I am not armed, guards. I will have my companions, you, and the king himself pat me down, but you won't find any weapon."

            The lead guard looked at him strangely, but he spoke again. "Please remove your hood, sir."

            He tilted his chin up. "I save my identity for the king."

            The guard again raised his eyebrows at the strangeness of the fellow, but he eventually stepped aside to let them pass before they walked in after the three. But the party did not walk far, for right before they could enter the main hall, Legolas stood in their way.

            He looked at the guards. "I will take it from here." They bowed slightly to him and walked back to their posts, their faces wearing relief. Legolas looked intently at the three before him. Anotil stood, his expression not completely calm. He stayed very close to his leader, who was barely showing any emotion. The elf looked straight back at Legolas, his dark brown eyes stern and unmoving. Legolas looked at the one in the middle. "Are you the leader?"

            "Yes, my lord," he responded, and again under the hood, Legolas could only see his lips form the words.

            He looked tentatively at him. "You are to remove your hood soon. You will be before the king momentarily." He turned his back to them and motioned with his hand. "Follow me."

            The four walked through the dim halls, lit by torches. Those who passed them stopped and observed the strangers, struck by just their appearance, and the atmosphere they brought with them. Tall they stood, and the cloaked and hooded leader in the middle, drawing curious eyes and much attention.

            They reached the main hall, where, at the throne, Gimli and Aragorn stood, a few guards off to the sides of the hall, clutching their swords just in case. The three soldiers stopped in the middle of the room, and Legolas walked ahead, and turned to face them as well when he was by Gimli's side.

            Aragorn stepped down from where he stood and looked long and hard at the strangers. The one in the middle with his hoop draped over his face caught his attention immediately. But he didn't bring up the subject. Yet.

            "Soldiers," he started towards the center of the room, "may I ask why you are here, first of all?"

            Anotil took a deep breath. "We are a small army, my lord. We come here to Gondor to merely set up camp outside your city's gates. We wish no disturbance, nor do we wish to bother anyone. If your majesty will allow it, we would like to camp outside your walls without any commotion and be allowed to visit the city for supplies regularly without drawing alarm. We already know that we have drawn attention."

            Aragorn nodded. There was no real problem with them just camping out. But…"Does your army have any objective, my friends?"

            Anotil tensed hesitantly. "Erm…yes, we do…um…"

            The elf stepped in. "We are being followed by a band of combined orcs and oracai. My king, you may have thought to have defeated them in the War for Middle Earth, but you did not. There is a band that looks to kill, and our army has taken the privilege to fight them. But we have evaded them and look for a place to set camp until we must move again."

            Aragorn looked at him peculiarly. "Don't you think that if they are after you, even though you say you have evaded them, that it is a danger to the innocents here that if they find you, they attack?"

            "Our soldiers are well trained and we have scouts on every yonderfield. If we even see the slightest of black, we will move and be gone as if we were never here."

            Aragorn sighed. "Do you have any more evidence to prove to me that this band really exists?"

            The elf tensed, his long brown hair falling off his shoulders as he took in a sharp breath, but the young lad in the middle of them stepped forward.

            "I have evidence, my lord."

            All faces in the room turned to the hooded stranger. Anotil and the elf stepped back from him and looked at him in small astonishment, as if they had not expected him to speak, as if they would be doing the talking for him.

            The stranger raised his hands lifted his rough hood off his head and it fell to his shoulders, the leader's face finally revealed.

            In fact, it wasn't a young lad, not even a man at all. It was a young girl. She had long hair, like that of the elf's next to her. It was blonde like Legolas', but unlike his style, hers was in thin cornrows up to the middle of her scalp. The top half parted and gathered in a tie, then the rest of it fell down to her shoulder blades, the ends of her hair with streaks of dark black. Her face was extremely young compared to the elf's beside her, and she looked not much younger than Anotil.

            She sighed. "My lord, this is Anotil, son of Nerodethul, and Ryuernet of Mirkwood, son of Atosir." She stepped forward and looked straight at Aragorn, noticing Legolas and Gimli behind him. "They are my most trusted companions, and I would trust any life in their hands. They are the most skilled soldiers of my army and the most loyal a person could have by their side."

            Aragorn, and seemingly everyone else in the hall, was astonished. He choked a bit. "_Your_ army, milady?"

            She nodded, her eyes serious and piercing. "_My army. I am Hashineya, daughter of Tarleon, leader of the Kyuketsen army of Forlindon."_

            The soldiers and guards in the room stepped back, murmuring to each other words of shock and surprise. Gimli came forward. "I thought the Kyuketsen army was but a myth! And to know now it really exists!"

            Legolas shook his head. "But the Green Elves inhabit Forlindon. You look no older than a child," he then pointed at Ryuernet, "he's from Mirkwood, which is the other end of Middle Earth, and he's a man, not an elf."

            His words hit a spot with her. She let out a slow breath. "My lord, _I am not an elf either. My mother was a woman, a mortal, just like any other woman in this city. And, may I add without being too rude, _I am not a child_. I am nineteen, so you know, and although I am the youngest person in this room, you should watch your words when you call someone a child._

            "And to add to what you said, _sir_, I know very well that the Green Elves resided in Forlindon. But ten years ago, when my people arrived there, _there was no one. Nothing. We wouldn't _be here_ if there was someone already there." _

            Aragorn said softly. "Pray tell us why you arrived in Forlindon in the first place?"

            Hashineya exhaled deeply and nodded. "It is a long story."

            "My mother was a mortal and my father an elf. We lived in a small town outside the woods of Mirkwood. My father, a descendant of Andoltos, the founder of our community, married a young she-elf named Alexial in his travels. He seemed young, when in fact he was a few hundred years old. But that did not stop Alexial from marrying him and bearing him three girls, each a few decades apart in birth: Artemis, Mildred, and Anare. After a few more centuries, long after Alexial had died, my sisters, with full immortality, only looked like young women. My father met another woman whom he fell in love with a woman named Nianerve. That was my mother. After a few years of marriage, my mother bore me. She died after giving birth.

            "Ryuernet was even older than my father. He had faced punishment in Mirkwood for stealing, and was accused of plotting to kill the royal family, even though he was innocent (he was framed, you see). He _had_ stolen things, but only food and a bit of money. Some weapons and such, maybe. He was banished from Mirkwood by Thranduil." She looked with a bit of hatred towards Legolas, as if she already knew that Thranduil was his father. "He came to our town, and found a great acceptance from my father, who did not seem to care about his record. Ryuernet swore loyalty to my father and promised to protect his heirs and family." Aragorn looked towards Ryuernet. The tall elf had his eyes narrowed, never leaving from his stern expression that he couldn't seem to break. His eyes implied that there was no question that his leader was telling the truth and that there should be no question about it. The king of men decided to avoid the strange elf's eyes and looked at Hashineya again. 

            She continued. "Ryuernet has been my protector since my birth. He is undoubtedly the most loyal person I have and ever will meet. Our town was filled with people of all sorts: men, elves, half-elves mostly, for they were the children of the elves and mortals that lived there, and even random dwarves came and went. When I was nine years old, our town was attacked by a heard of orcs. We had no time to ride into Mirkwood and seek help, for it was pitch black and the attack had come unexpected. My father…" her voice clipped short, "my father…was slaughtered as he fought off the orcs that had come to kill me and my sisters. My sisters had already, however, ridden off into Mirkwood, and I believe they are still there, for they are immortal. They had left me behind to die in the attack. I do not think they liked me very much, especially since we had different mothers, and _my mother was the one who was human._

            "But besides that point, the attack. Yes, it was horrible. There was chaos everywhere. Ryuernet and some other elders tried to gather as many people as possible. Then…we just ran. We ran and ran. One of the elves with us made the water rise in one of the streams we went over and that delayed the orcs. By the time the water lowered, our scent was gone, and so were we. We ran into Rohan, but continued north from there. We entered Eriador, went around the Shire (we couldn't draw the attention of the Hobbits) and we went through the River Lune. We were _hoping_ that the elves in Forlindon, which was as north was we could go, would help us. But there was a green, empty land. It was like the elves of Forlindon had vanished without a trace. We found a few villages, but they were either burnt or abandoned. Alone we had to start a new town, a new _world._

            "After a few years, it was successful. I was thirteen, and now the leader of our colony by my father's death. Many visitors laughed at us, at _me, but my people knew I had the knowledge to lead them. I was my father's daughter, and I would prosper._

            "And now," Hashineya lifted her head high, the strands of blonde and black-streaked hair falling from the edges of her face, "it is reasonable to question our army, our objective, the mere purpose of it all. On the eve of my fourteenth birthday, a young man, a scout, rode into our capital, Ulathil, and told us about an army of orcs and oracai combined that had escaped from Eisengard. They were heading north. It was then the Kyuketsen army was born.

            "The name Kyuketsen came from many influences. I have heard that style of names from an island far away they call Orient. But I also named it after my great-grandfather, who was also a cousin of some sort to Anotil's family. His name was…"

            "Kyudaiil," Anotil interrupted.

            Hashineya nodded. "Kyudaiil, yes. The scout who had told us about the army of oracai _was_ Anotil. I took men from my colony, which had quite grown to a large state at the time, I took men from other lands, all who were willing to fight. But I kept my enlistment discreet. I did it myself, with the help of Ryuernet and Anotil of course. I do everything that concerns this army with my own hands.

            "Anyways, I started training them, combing the fighting of elves and men alike, and even maneuvers of battle I spent years drawing up myself. Battle had always fascinated me. But many of the men that enlisted thought they were only under my _rule_, and that Ryuernet was their leader.

            "'No,' he told them, 'this woman here is your leader. Bow before the Lady Hasinea, leader of Ulathil and all of Forlindon!' It took a while to accept the fact that a _female teenager was the leader of wise elves, powerful men, and that this _female teenager_ could lead them all to victory against the perils of evil and the dark spawn of Eisengard. Our army wasn't very large, but the quality of my men was predominant over the quantity. With roughly 1400 men, we said our goodbyes to Ulathil, to Forlindon. We left some soldiers behind to guard the colony, and I left a trusted relative, Denman, son of Geroden, in charge. He was a right-hand man to my father, right beside Ryuernet. But I would rather have Ryuernet by _my_ side._

            "We trained and fought. Our army was so small, yet so great, when only three men would die in battle, we would all mourn them and give each of them their own respective burial. The Kyuketsen army has never left the dead, because those good men risked their lives for our good, and it would be disrespectful to leave them to rot in the ground, for later years and generations to trample what once was a great warrior, a great man, into the dirt to be dirt forever. It would be horrid to have their blood stain the earth forever and have their souls forever haunting the forsaken battle field of their end. I know every name of my soldiers, and when they die, the image of their faces never leaves my mind.

            "Lord Aragorn, king of men, you know me now. You know my purpose, and you know my past. I assure you now, if I was a traitor, an enemy," she smiled, "that would be one hell of a history to make up off the top of my mind."

            For the first time since the strangers' entrance into the palace, Aragorn smiled, laughing quietly. He looked up at her, this time with welcome eyes. "Milady, you are welcome to stay here as long as you want."

            Anotil grinned, and Hashineya's eyes lit up, and she turned around and hugged Anotil. But she remembered her manners and bowed to Aragorn. Ryuernet said nothing, but his expression lightened a little.

            The guards in the room lowered their hands from the hilts of their swords and let out a sigh of relief. Hashineya ginned and bowed again. "My lord, is there anything else you require from me?"

            Aragorn pondered a little, rubbing his scratchy chin. "In fact," he said, "there is. Would you mind joining us for dinner?"

            At the table, Gimli and Legolas sat on one side of the table, and the three Kyuketsen leaders on the other. Hashineya was in the middle, fiddling with the bread that was before her. She drew a few eyes as she childishly ripped off the crust and put it on the edge of her plate.

            Gimli adjusted himself in his seat. "Now, milady. Tell me, are these orcs fierce? I mean, big, scary?"

            Aragorn came to the table and smiled as he sat down beside Legolas. "Gimli thinks the bigger the better."

            "And they are!" he declared, "Why, you remember at Helms Deep! They kept on comin' but I slashed them down, one by one!"

            Hashineya grinned. "Oh, yes. They are large, black, and ugly as all hell. They look like they went to the fires but they were spat back out. An ugly band of—" Ryuernet coughed, signaling for Hashineya not to ramble on. It was clear that although she claimed she was very mature, the nineteen years of her age clearly showed.

            She shook her head as her soup was placed before her. "We just came from the Dead Marshes. Ugly bog, believe me. It seemed like night all the time,  and our whole army didn't sleep once through our travels through there. We thought we had the orcs cornered, but they are black and so was the sky, so it was fortunate we were able to get out."

            Anotil showed a small grin coming onto his face. "If I remember, Hashineya, _you fell asleep on your horse."_

            Her eyes widened. "Me! I, the leader, falling asleep! My, I should have left you back with the soldiers, Ano!" she exclaimed, but her tone was playful. The room had a lighter air to it. It was the way this young girl acted that lifted the seriousness from the room. The only place it stayed was in Ryuernet's deep eyes.

            Legolas spoke up. "Sir, how long ago were you banished from Mirkwood?"

            Ryuernet stopped eating. He dropped his spoon and glared at Legolas. He immediately regretted asking the question.

            But Hashineya didn't seem to notice. "Oh, long ago. Thousands and thousands of years. Maybe…um…four?"

            Anotil laughed. "Yes, Hashineya. Thousands!"

            "Hey!" she playfully nudged him.

            Ryuernet, this time, spoke. "Son of Thranduil, I can assure you that you weren't born when I was falsely accused and banished by your father. Yes, I should have received punishment for robbery, if only it was known it was too feed my _family_."

            A silence filled the room. Everyone stopped eating, but Ryuernet didn't let his fierce look drop. He gritted his teeth, bending the spoon in his hand. Hashineya noticed it this time, and, thinking of no other way to solve this, she kicked Ryuernet in the shin.

            He cursed, his hand flying to his leg, but Hashineya _hmph_ed. "Well, my lord, I feel we need to leave now." She stood and bowed, then looked at Anotil and Ryuernet. "_Gaeh_," she growled, and the two nodded and left the room.

            "I apologize for Ryuernet's behavior, but I did not want to mention in front of him that he hated Mirkwood to begin with." She sighed and held her head in her hand. "This is all very embarrassing. But, the man is who he is." She bent over, lifted her soup bowl, and gulped the whole thing down. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand. "Thank you very much, Lord Aragorn. I must leave now, but the soup was delicious!"

            She stalked angrily down the street, her nasty demeanor making people step out of her way when she passed. She found Ryuernet and Anotil waiting by a local tavern.

            "My lady, the men are—"

            "Shut up, Anotil," she growled, then faced Ryuernet, "I hope you don't mind, _Ryuernet, to __keep your damned grudges to yourself! Legolas has done nothing to you. You want to blame Thranduil, then blame _him!_ But don't make whatever weak trust we have with them weaken even more."_

            Her angry eyes glared up at Ryuernet. For a moment, the elf wanted badly to slap her, send her to the dirt. He clenched his hands tightly, making the leather of his gloves crack. He grit his teeth hard and let out a sharp breath.

            "Yes, my lady," he bowed.


	3. The Call of the Bird

Kyuketsen

By SariaSubi-kun

SariaSubi: Hey, another review. Thank you so much szhismine , by the way, for telling me about the spelling. It would be very embarrassing to go through a whole story with incorrect spelling. And Cherrymania! Man, I wish I had reviewers like you guys on my other stories. You guys are great. Three reviews for two chapters! This is a record! Woor!

I said before that all the places I have said in this story are real. Ulathil is not. And I am sorry: it is said oo-lah-theel and not oo-lah-_thill. Or it could be either or. Whatever you prefer._

I am thinking of letting willing reviewers (which is a rare occurrence for me, I assure you) to have guest appearances in this story. If you want to, tell me the character, appearance and name, race and such. 

Anyways, on with the third chapter. By the way, does anyone know the name of the city in Gondor where Aragorn rules? Is it Osgiliath? I mean…I knew that was destroyed in the Two Towers…but…argh, I really _do_ need to read those books…or it was something like Minas Tirith, right?

Atril-yoane – (ah-treel yoh-ah-ney) _atril_, as you know, means _come_ or _come here. __Atril-yoane means __come out, or _reveal___ yourself. It is also used as a command._

Niate – nee-ah-tey (either a direction or exclamation, or rather even just the translation for the word _there_. Niate, simply, means _there_)

Chapter 3

            The canopy of black velvet and stars was pervading in the sky slowly, the yellows and reds of the setting sun's atmosphere fading and blending in. The lampposts were lit with candles, and taverns threw their doors open to the men who came for a good time. Maids and women scurried into their homes with their baskets, and servants returned from their work and the fields. 

            Legolas wandered the streets, his presence not stirring much attention at this time of night. He looked up at the sky and sighed. He could see all the constellations clearly.

            He neared the city's gates where two guards stood. Over the stone barricade, he saw smoke rising from close by. Did the guards not see it? A warm orange glow reflected on the thin cloud of smoke. Legolas wrinkled his nose. That smoke was from a fire. 

            The elf did not go straight through the city's gate. In fact, he avoided being even seen by the guards and slipped into one of the back alleys. He smiled with slight exultance when he saw a stack of wooden crates piled up against the stone wall that bordered the Gondor city. Mutely and swiftly, he jumped from crate to crate and hopped over the stone.

            Legolas landed on the grass gracefully. Bending low, his bow in hand, he glided around the Kyuketsen campsite and disappeared into the woods beyond the rocks that were on the woods' edge.

            _The Kyuketsen campsite.__ Of course! It was obvious now, and now that he thought about it, it was a petty thing to worry about. But something seemed…not so as being _strange_, but __irregular._

            The men were down to just simple tunics and leggings. No sign of battle armor nor weapon could be seen on them. They gathered around the fire, some sitting on crates, some sitting on nearby boulders. The bonfire was large, and the large flame danced with a golden glow in the night. Some of the men carried pints of drinks, and there were even some with drums and guitars, playing music. Some hummed a chant, moving and stepping to each beat of the chant. The drum pounded softly, causing a rhythmic sound that resounded over and over in Legolas' ears.

            But nearby he heard more of a hypnotic, yet beautiful sound. The low hum of an ocarina played a cryptic tune, and the men started to dance around the fire. The sound was eerie, but intriguing nonetheless. Legolas' eyes searched for where the sound was coming from, and he found it very close.

            On the small wall of rocks, a figure with their cloak lazily about their shoulders, with blonde hair that glowed enthrallingly against the blaze of the fire held their hands up and played the flute. Their back against the flame, Legolas could only see a shadow, but he felt he knew who it was.     

            _Hashineya, he realized. Her fingers danced along the ocarina, the entrancing sound eerily blending in with the drums and chanting. The soldiers grew more lively and started singing, and she still played. _

            But Legolas heard a rustling in the trees above him. Immediately his hand flew to the quiver on his back, his other hand clutching his bow tightly. His eyes searched the trees, but it was dark, and the trees with only shadows with leaves. Then he heard the sound of a bird. But the caw was different from any other he had heard.

            Hashineya jumped from her position on the rocks, her hand grasping the hilt of her sword. The blade unsheathed a few inches. The rest of the men did not notice it, but she heard that caw. It had darkness in its words, and evil in its purpose. She would never be able to explain it, but she could hear nature, and the presence of whatever was in that wood was dark and evil. 

            She heard another rustle, and she jumped off the rocks. "_Atril-yoane!" she growled. A figure stood up from the bushes._

            Legolas raised his arms in surrender. Hashineya let out a sigh of relief. "Ah, Master Legolas, it is only you. I thought I heard something." She put her sword back in its sheath. But then she looked back up at the elf, a playful glint in her eyes. "May I ask what you were doing there in the bushes?"

            His breath caught in his throat. "Um…" he looked down as a slight blush of embarrassment came to his face. "I thought I heard something, too."

            Hashineya's smile disappeared. She looked at him seriously. "It was the caw of that bird, wasn't it?"  

            Legolas nodded. "I've never heard a bird like that before."

            Hashineya nodded and walked towards him, stopping beside him and looking into the forest. "It sounded so cold and dark, so _evil_." She shuddered, rubbing her arms for the warmth that had unexpectedly disappeared from her. 

            He looked at her. "Can you really sense nature like that?"

            Hashineya looked down. "Well, more than most elves. I know the elven abilities even though I am not completely elven myself. My only disadvantage is I can feel cold and extreme heat."

            He smiled and shook his head. He had that ability, to feel no temperature. Still, the fact of being so in tune with nature never really struck him as something to pay attention to. He could sense evil, tell what a red sun meant, and climb trees more swiftly and quietly than anyone else. As he recalled the caw of that bird in the forest, the evil screech of it came clear to him, and his spine shook, an uncertain shiver that he barely felt creeping up it.

            "I'm going in. How about you?" she looked up at him. 

            Legolas looked at her with uncertainty. "What about your men? Will they notice you're gone?"

            She twisted her lips and waved it by. "I disappear all the time. This won't be any different. It's just…" she trailed off and looked to the dark woods, "…I now need to find that bird and _kill it_. I won't rest until I know it's dead." 

            Legolas' eyes searched hers. There was a strange spark of darkness in them, a deep determination. But all over a bird seemed childish. Still, the darkness in her voice could not stop her from trying to kill that bird. She would find it, and she would kill it.

            _But__ why?_

            "I will help you," he offered, taking a step after her as she headed into the maze of trees.

            "No," she shook her head, "I need to kill it myself."

            "At least let me help you search for it, my lady." Hashineya turned around. That was the first time anyone had called her 'my lady.' Of course, this was the Prince of Mirkwood she was with, but she had seen other royalty not even regard her with any title. The only title she ever received out of the Kyuketsen was 'female warrior.' She wasn't very proud of it.

            "All right," she said slowly, nodding her head, but not looking at him. Hashineya crouched, her bow and arrow drawn out, and crept into the forest. Legolas followed in suit, cautiously drawing an arrow from his quiver as he searched the night sky made even darker by the forest. 

            "_Niate__!" she hissed, and she aimed her bow up and let the arrow fly. The __twng of the string's vibration sounded and the arrow flew, its speed reeling the whistle through the trees. The arrow hit flesh, and a small, dark lump fell to the ground._

            "Gotcha!" Hashineya jumped up, a girly squeal coming out of her. She ran over to where the body of the bird, which was rather large up close, and picked it up, pulling the arrow out the carcass.

            Legolas came up behind her and observed the animal. "It's black, like the color of evil."       

            "Yeah," Hashineya sighed broodingly. She turned the body over and over, a bit of it's dark blood staining itself on her leather gloves. She hummed thoughtfully and shrugged, turning around and starting to exit the forest.

            "What are you going to do with it?" Legolas asked her, following her out.

            She looked back at him and shrugged. "Well, there was a saying among my family: When the evil is weak, take it into yourself, so that it will not spread its evil to others. In other words, I'm going to roast it, and eat it." As they continued to walk out, Legolas looked at her strangely, trying to decipher what she meant. When they left the forest, she stopped at the rocks and sat down, plucking a few of the free feathers from the bird.

            "Besides, I haven't had any dinner yet except for that bowl of soup. And this," she held the bird in front of her and smiled, "is the _perfect size of meat."_

            She munched on the leg of the bird, which had been roasted over the bonfire, and she was resting on the rocks again, eating as she conversed with Legolas.

            "And the battle for Helms Deep was _won?_" she looked at him with wide eyes. "To think you were there, fighting, and here you are now, standing here and telling me about it. Spectacular!" Hashineya grinned and took another bite of the leg, humming in approval at its taste.

            Legolas rubbed the back of his head, blushing a little at the adoration. "Your making it sound like it was all me."

            A voice stepped in. "What was all you?"

            Both Legolas and Hashineya looked up from their conversation to see Anotil. He still wore his chain mail from earlier, but other than that, he was in a faded maroon tunic and regular leggings.

            Anotil definitely was older than Hashineya. He had dirty (and I mean this _both ways) blonde hair that reached to around his chin. Like Aragorn, it was not very curly, but messy and everywhere. His face wasn't as young as Hashineya's glowing countenance, but he was still young, even though it was clear he had been through the battles of war._

            He looked at Legolas long and hard for a minute. They looked at each other, time freezing, their eyes locked in a stare down neither of them knew the reason for. Hashineya pouted and took a bite of her roasted bird, humming in approval at its taste again. But in her efforts to break the silence, she failed.

            Anotil's dark eyes watched Legolas slowly. Even more slowly, his gloved hand came out from under his cloak. He put it in front of Legolas.

            "My name is Anotil. It's a pleasure to meet you." Legolas' eyes scanned him, and then stopped at the boy's outstretched hand.

            Hashineya rearranged herself on the rock. _What, is that not the way people greet each other? Is there like a Mirkwood way or something?_ She took another bite.

            "Legolas," he said slowly, "pleasure." They shook hands unhurriedly, still looking at each other. Hashineya shook her head and sat in a different position again.

            "Ano! It's cool that you finally met Legolas. He was telling me about the battle he fought at Helms Deep." 

            Anotil looked at him. "I heard about that battle. I did not know you were there."

            Legolas nodded. "I was there on the front lines, fighting next to Aragorn and Gimli."

            "Gimli..." Hashineya mulled over his name. She rubbed her chin as Anotil sat next to her. "Oh, yes, he's the dwarf. He seems like a pleasure to be with."

            Legolas smiled. "He is."

            Anotil wasn't smiling. Hashineya looked at him briefly with worry. _What is on his mind, I wonder?_

            "I'm sorry to ruin the good time," Anotil put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, "but do you think we are lying?"

            Legolas looked at him, rather confused at what he meant. The elf himself couldn't believe that he was puzzled by a regular human, but this one had a strange look of determination in his eyes. Anotil's eyes narrowed. "Hashineya wasn't lying, there _is a band of orcs and Uruk-Hai reeking havoc on Middle Earth. All your cities, all your women, all your _children_ are in danger. Your armies can't stand up to it. The hell-driven fires that were extinguished at Isengard can't compare to the inferno that is going to spread. It will start in the northern mountains, spread east to Rivendell, south to Mirkwood, west to Rohan, north to Eriador, and then back south to engulf Gondor and find its home below in Mordor when this hell started."_

            "So then why do you think your army can stand up to this if all the armies of Middle Earth will fall?" Legolas' eyes burned back at the young soldier, whose breath was quickening and teeth were clenching in the growing energy.

            "I do not," he said slowly, his voice edgy, "but we were the only ones who would heed the call. We will not defeat the coming evil, no one can, unless _all_ of Middle Earth unites. But hear this, _elf_, we are not stable boys or farmers. We have trained our whole lives for this day. All our lives have been war, battle, and weapon. Although our leader," Anotil took a sideways glance toward Hashineya, "sometimes does not always keep a serious outlook towards this oncoming war, the whole Kyuketsen army is ready, and we will fight to our end to try to extinguish this fire."

            Hashineya nodded, her face grave. She looked down at her boots, her hazel eyes becoming dark. The girl knew that sometimes she acted childish, but she _was_ still a child, whether she liked to admit it or not.

            "I am not the person you should tell this all to," Legolas told them.

            "No," a voice said, "but we will have to consult your king soon enough." The three of them looked up to see Ryuernet, hovering over Hashineya.

            She was the only one who smiled brightly at his appearance. "Ryu, so good to see you."

            He nodded at her, but his face hardened more from its already serious manner when he looked at Legolas and Anotil.

            "Everything that Anotil has said is the truth. Middle Earth, man, elf, and dwarf, and even those halflings in the Shire will have to unite against this evil. For it is far more than orcs and Uruk-Hai that are going to strike. Something greater is going to happen."

            "Sauron." They heard a whisper from the bushes, the four of them looking to the edge of the woods. Gimli came out of the bush, and Aragorn from behind a tree.

            "Forgive us for eavesdropping," Aragorn bowed his head, "but what you were saying caught our attention while we were looking for Legolas' whereabouts." He looked down at Legolas, who nodded in apology, but they turned their attention back to the Kyuketsen leaders.

            "No," Ryuernet said, "it is not Sauron. Sauron is gone forever. But do you think Sauron was the only evil that exists in this world? There was evil before Sauron, and there will be evil after Sauron."

            "We do not know now who the main source of evil is," Hashineya looked up at Aragorn, "but we must break the walls before we get to the fortress. You know what I mean."

            He nodded, sitting down beside Legolas. "Do you remember where these orcs are now, my lady?"

            Hashineya's face fell, a worried look coming to her eyes. "To think back now…no. I don't." She clenched her fist in anger at herself for forgetting. "All I remember is losing them in the Dead Marshes, but that is all I can remember." She shook her head in dismay, putting her head in her hands. "How could I have forgotten to…ah, Anotil you were right," she mumbled bitterly, "I probably _did_ fall asleep on that horse. Eh, Hotaru?" She looked back at her horse and whistled, the brown mare coming to her side.

            "Do not trouble yourself over it, my lady," Aragorn assured her, "I was only curious."

            Hashineya looked down. "Yes, well, I still wish I could remember, but it has been days since I last slept." She looked away, down at the dirt. "Probably why I fell asleep," she grumbled.   

            Aragorn bowed his head, placing his hand on his chest. "My lady, you should get some rest. Thank you for talking with us. I will leave you to your sleep now. Legolas, Gimli." The two nodded and turned to leave. Ryuernet and Anotil did the same, Anotil taking the reins of Hotaru and leading the horse towards the camp. Hashineya lingered, here eyes still holding sight of Aragorn. 

            _Are you really my king? she asked herself. _You only seem like just a man, a ranger, a fighter. Should I have known you before this time, would my opinions have changed?_ She smiled sheepishly and shook her head. She turned away and looked to the darkened sky, over the camps of her men._

            _Still, the evil from the roots of darkness that have seeded themselves in Middle Earth's sweet ground is going to emerge. Out from the forests of men and elves alike will it seep, and like the fires of Mordor, there will be the fires of Rohan, Gondor, of Eriador, Mirkwood, and the Shire. Of Harlindon, Forlindon, and Rivendell. Fangorn will burn, and the snow in the Mountains will melt, and Moria will be submerged. Middle Earth will fall to water, wind, and flame, and whoever survives will join the elves and they will leave Middle Earth, off to an island somewhere, maybe to Orient*. I wish I could be with my people, bask in their embrace and drift off to a calm and restful sleep. But I am forced awake, and on the front lines of battle and blood, I am condemned to stand forever._

_            Her eyes reflected the fading fire, dancing slower and slower as the fire lessened. A soldier threw a bucket of water over it, for other smaller fires were made around groups of the sleeping men. She saw Ryuernet, far away from them, near the bags and crates, sliding into his blanket on his sleeping mat. Anotil, only a few crates away, did the same. He looked up, at her, and smiled. She returned with a warm smile, and he nodded, turning and covering himself in his blanket. But Hashineya looked back over the land, and to the sky, to the moon._

            _Be still, night, for even if I sleep, I still watch, and I will be on ceremony if any danger lurks._

            Far into the night, the crickets chirped and the town and  the encampment slept soundly.

            But in the woods, a shrill echo of a bird's cry broke the silence, and dissolved into the darkening clouds.


End file.
